A Wonderful Life
by lucidscreamer
Summary: And she lived...maybe not happily ever after, but happier than many. AU, not for diehard E/B shippers.


Disclaimer: _Twilight_ and its characters are the creations of Stephenie Meyer.

Warning: AU after the end of the first book/movie; out-of-character (mature characters, logical thinking, etc.); mentions of past Bella/OMC; _no_ Edward/Bella HEA ending. Though I do consider this story to have a happy-ish ending, if you're a diehard E/B shipper, this story is not for you.

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><p><span>A Wonderful Life<span>

By Lucidscreamer

Bella was forty-seven when she married Thomas Weiner.

They had met at the supermarket, of all places, like one of those silly 'where to meet men' articles in some women's magazine. They were friends first, their relationship a slow, easy slide into a romance so gentle she never saw it coming until she was in over her head. And it was good. He was good - and good for her, to her.

She didn't want kids. She was nearing fifty, and he had three college-aged offspring of his own (two boys and a girl), and she had already spent too many years of her life mothering her parents. Skipping the diapers and the midnight feedings worked for her, and seeing their father so in love worked for them. They might have been more _Simpsons_ than _Brady Bunch_, but they worked.

Thomas' boys stood up with him as his best men; his daughter Jenny served as Bella's maid of honor. She told anyone who would listen that the best part of being married was the way her new surname made her laugh. Thomas just grinned and threatened to rechristen her "Oscar Meyer." For their first Christmas together, the kids gave her a charm bracelet with a tiny gold hot dog surrounded by hearts bearing each of their names. (She cut her finger on the wrapping paper. No one else noticed.)

It wasn't the life she had once planned, and it wasn't perfect. But it was a human life, a good life. And they were happy more often than they were not.

For over thirty years, they were happy.

-o0o-

She was seventy-nine when she saw _him_ again.

It was Christmas Eve, her first Christmas without Thomas. She was far from alone, though. The whole family was here, including Jenny's grandchildren, and the house rang with their shouts of laughter as their parents tried to corral them for bed. The lights on the small tree in the corner of her bedroom cast multicolored, twinkling reflections against the white walls. For a while, she watched the lights, fascinated by the changing patterns, which scintillated and fractured like a handful of diamonds scattered in the sun...

And then she realized that the lights were brighter, their colors scintillating over the whole room, and she suddenly found it a little hard to breathe. She held her breath when she saw him step out of the shadows in the corner by the window.

"..._Edward_?" Her voice was raspy and small.

"Hello, Bella." _His_ was as it had always been, smooth and almost musical. He glided toward her on silent feet and she drank him in for the first time in half a century.

"You haven't changed."

It was an inane thing to say, but her mind was incapable of producing anything better. And it was true, of course. He hadn't changed. From his perpetually mussed auburn hair (had she really been pretentious enough to call it 'bronze'?) to his marble-pale skin and golden eyes, he was exactly as she remembered.

He looked at her with a faint smile playing about the corners of his mouth and lifted her hand to press a kiss to the fragile, wrinkled skin. "You have."

Okay, maybe he had changed. She didn't remember him being this much of an asshole.

As if reading her mind (or, more likely, her expression), he amended, "You're more beautiful than ever."

"Yeah, right." She gave an inelegant snort and pulled her hand free of his feather-light grasp. "My eyes do still work, Edward, and I own a mirror. I know what I look like."

"Somehow, I doubt it." His smile crooked up on one side as he settled on the ottoman beside her chair. "You never did see yourself very clearly."

She folded her arms. "I got old."

"You've lived. It's a good look on you."

For a long moment, she stared at him before relenting. "What about you?"

A shrug. "I'm still here."

She heard the hint of untold stories beneath his words, but his tone discouraged her from asking. Glancing down at her hands in her lap, she plucked at the soft woven throw covering her legs. The throw had been a gift from one of Jenny's kids. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you." He reached out and took her hands gently in his, his thumb stroking over the pulse throbbing in her wrists. "I wanted to know you were well."

"I am." Again, she pulled her hands away. "I've had a good life."

A long, human life - though not with him. He had said he was willing, but, in the end, she had known the only way to live was to do it away from vampires and wolves and things that lurked in the shadows of her darkest fears. It had been a hard lesson to learn. When she'd been young and still stupid enough to think herself immortal, her own life hadn't meant that much if she couldn't spend it with him. And then Mike, who was just as young and stupid, died in a totally preventable accident. And Jess got sick (Bella had helped her shop for headscarves and wigs when the chemo started). And so many little things started to add up to "every moment of your life is precious, so don't waste it."

So, she hadn't. She'd lived.

College and careers and mortgages/retirement plans/last will and testament. She'd grown up - and old. She'd found Thomas and love and made a family to call her own.

"Tell me you were happy..." whispered the ageless echo of her distant, youthful folly.

Her hand shook a bit when she reached to cup his smooth cheek, but it was the palsy of age, not nerves, and her voice was steady and honest when she replied, "I was. _I am_."

"That's all I ever wanted," he said, and kissed her good-bye. "Merry Christmas, Bella."

He was gone before she could touch her fingers to her tingling lips.

She sat in the quiet dark, lit only by the twinkling lights, and allowed a moment to think of eternity and souls and foolish youth. And then she straightened her stooped shoulders and reached for her cane. Because in the morning there would be presents and hot chocolate and laughing children... and she needed a good night's sleep to deal with the sheer, overwhelming _life_ of it all.

Smiling to herself, she made her way slowly to bed. Maybe it wasn't always wonderful, but it was _her_ life, and she could be glad she'd finally learned to appreciate living it.

Sparkling off the tinsel like a vampire in the sun, the Christmas lights soothed her to sleep.

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><p><em>And she lived... maybe not happily ever after, but happier than many.<em>


End file.
